Kneeboarding Mavericks by Phil Curtis

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Kneeboarding Mavericks by Phil Curtis

Post by Moderator »

This week, Phil Curtis approached us and asked if we would post the story he wrote on his experience of kneeboarding Mavericks.

We said of course it would great to have it, but we thought it would be good for Phil to post it himself. Phil is a new user on the site and goes by the user name 'pcledges'.

We've read the story and it's a great read on what was a legendary effort. Enjoy!
Last edited by Moderator on Fri Sep 03, 2010 1:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by pcledges »

The Drop

What does the phrase "taking a chance" mean to you? Does it mean a calculated risk? Does it mean going for it, balls-to-the-wall, come what may? Does it involve the help of friends? Does nature play a role? At Mavericks, the first approach is sometimes used, but the rest are always a part of the equation. There's a lot of water moving out there, all of it deep and thick and churning. At first it may not look that way, but all you have to do is take off near the peak on one wave and you'll know. Riding a wave out there is taking surfing to another level, one where speed and bounce take on a whole new reality. Pushing over the ledge into a set wave there is a unique experience, both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Those that want that experience can become obsessed by the goal, and, once having gained it, will probably be back for more. But first, it seems to me, some homework is required.

Back in the late 80's, faint rumors were surfacing along the north coast about a Waimea Bay-like wave near Half Moon Bay. By then, we'd been surfing what we considered a large, hard-breaking wave near Scott Creek for years. In fact, we were feeling pretty confident that we could handle any surf that the north Pacific could throw at us. Then, one morning at Paul's Cafe in Santa Cruz, where we'd often go for breakfast after surfing to talk story about the morning's waves, that feeling got shaken. Hans and Tony had paddled out to this Mavericks spot to give it a shot. We had to pry information out of them about the place, but bits and pieces started coming out, then the whole story, in what appeared at first to be exaggerated detail. But these guys are serious north coast chargers, and when their eyes grew wider and wider and the story got louder and quicker, we realized that those vague rumors were taking on substance.

Turns out they'd paddled out one morning, not quite sure of what they were getting into. Right away, Hans stroked into a set wave, skipped down its face, got buried at the bottom and dragged underwater half way to the rocks, a distance of at least 100 yards. Tony had watched all this and continued the story, saying that Hans had eventually made it back out to the lineup with eyes as big as saucers. After that, their senses were on high alert. They each rode a few waves and had a few more wipe-outs that day, and were definitely watching out for each other. We asked how big the waves were at the main bowl. Hans pointed out the window to a two-story building next door that had a peaked roof on it. It was about 30 feet high. "The bowl comes in kind of like that and breaks top to bottom. The thing breaks like Ledges, only it's about three times as high." Now Ledges was the spot we'd all been surfing together for years, and we'd seen both Hans and Tony defy the laws of physics there.....using the last few inches of the tails of their boards to hold them into massive, heaving, concave walls of water as they dropped in, driving underneath long exploding sections of whitewater. When they told us of a wave three times the size and power of anything we had managed ourselves, it pretty much got our attention.

I asked Hans if he thought I'd have a chance out there. He said, "Phil, we need someone on a boat in the channel, someone who can take pictures of this place. You're good in the water. You could be our support crew.". I took that as a no. But I also decided to find out more about this Mavericks place.

There weren't many people you could talk to about Mavericks back then. Not many had ridden waves there. And, besides Tony and Hans, I didn't really know any of the others that had and felt funny about approaching them to ask about a spot that was still semi-shrouded in secrecy. I did have a board made for the place though, a board that was much longer and heavier than any I had ridden to date, one that I figured could handle all that water.

That board wasn't ridden for over a year. Turns out that, at the beginning of the next season, we had a close encounter with the "landlord" at our favorite surf spot. We'd always talked about white sharks from the safe "it'll never happen to us" position. Having one rise in our midst and drag down a friend in front of our eyes was a serious wake-up call. John was life-flighted by chopper to Stanford Medical Center and, after a few weeks, was back surfing. But I was too spooked to enter the north coast waters for most of the rest of that season.

During that time, I found more people to talk to about Mavericks. Some said that no, I'd be pushing it too far to try it out there. Others said sure, give it a try, that I'd find out pretty quick if I was up to it or not. One person who I talked to a lot about the place was Frosty. He'd been surfing Mavericks for about a year by then and knew my surfing style and could be very analytical about waves and possibilities. He was one of the ones who thought I might just be able to do it. I picked his brain a lot. He told me about swell direction and size to look for, the best tides and winds....and a little about the feeling of the water out there, a half mile from shore.

And I started paddling at my home break, up and down the point using my arms to drag myself for miles along the shore. I figured that I'd need as much paddling strength as possible to catch that Mavericks peak early. I worked on breath control too, in preparation for the long hold-down that comes to everyone out there at some point. I got up to 2-21/2 minutes holding my breath at home, but fully realized that a 45-second (three wave) hold-down in that deep, cold water was probably not survivable. And my "visualizing success" strategy centered not on riding the wave to its finish but the worst-case scenario of getting pitched through 30 feet of air with a four-foot lip following me down and grinding me into the water for a long, black, cold pressurized time. I figured that if I could visualize that and was ready for it (yeah....right), skill and physics would determine the rest. I was as ready as I was gonna be.

.....or so I thought. There was one little detail, concerning board-to-water contact, that I hadn't worked out. Maybe if I'd taken a longer look at the 10-11 foot Mavericks guns that were being used out there, I'd have gotten a clue. Maybe more discussions about hydrodynamics and board design would have helped. But maybe not. In the end, the only way to find out for sure was to paddle out and try a wave or two, with my specially designed board and me as pilot.

So.....it was Halloween, and Mavericks was breaking. Everything looked good....I was on it! It was a a bizarre, anticipatory drive up to Half Moon Bay and paddle out to the break. I'd never actually seen Mavericks before. This was before the photos and the movies. I don't remember much about the paddle out, but definitely recall seeing Frosty and a few others out in the lineup. Frosty said hi. The others looked at me like, "who's this guy?" Frosty said, "Phil, how you doing?" I replied, "I'll tell you in about an hour or two". He laughed.

Everyone looked very centered and watching the horizon. Being paranoid, I paddled out beyond them to avoid being caught inside by a wave that I hadn't even seen yet. Five minutes later....I was sitting out there and, sure as s--t, a wave came straight at me. It didn't look that big, maybe like Scott Creek on a big day. It was perfectly smooth and looked do-able. No-one else was in position. I told myself, "well, this is why I came", and went.

As I pushed to my knees I could see one paddler at the bottom of the wave, scrambling to get out of the way and looking very small. And I could hear hoots. The water seemed perfectly smooth, and I started my drop. I got kind of a warm feeling...."I'm going to make this....I've done it!!" Then reality set in. The wave stood up another 50% in height. Now I was no longer dropping down the wave face. In fact, I was moving backwards up. The board separated from the wave, I separated from the board, and we, in parallel, fell through the concave bowl and penetrated the water at the bottom of the wave. I remember thinking, under water, "well, this is what I prepared for". After getting thoroughly pounded, but then released relatively quickly, I popped up, wound in my board, and started stroking back out as fast as I could. I had been pushed to the north while under water, and here came two more set waves. At first, it looked like I might be able to paddle around them to the north. But, no, they were shifting in my direction. I was scrambling, using my arms and flippers for all they were worth to get over the shoulder of the first one, which I barely made. I wasn't going to make the second one, so, grabbing a breath, I angled down and west, hoping to break the pull that this wave sure looked like it had.......Whew, made it through that one too, but my board got tossed. Thank God for leashes. And thanks, also, that that was the end of the set.

The lads had had to deal with the set too, but had escaped unscathed by paddling to the south. I thought I noticed some strange looks in my direction as I made it back to the lineup. Frosty....."so, Phil, now how do you feel?" After thinking for a moment, I said, "you know, I actually feel better, now that that's over." "Attaboy", from Frosty. A little later, Jeff Clark paddled over to say, "nice wave....but you needed more board. You should try the lefts. They're a little smoother".

I realized that Jeff was completely right about the length of my board. But there was no way I was going to try a left out there. I'd just paddled through two of them, and they looked downright nasty. At that point, Jeff was the only person who'd really tried going left, and I wasn't willing to be the second one to try it. In fact, I was content to just sit there and watch. Realizing that I hadn't been out there more than ten minutes before trying my first wave, I determined that it might be a bit more prudent to check out what was really going on. So.....there I was, sitting way outside, when another set came through. I could see it coming from quite a way off and was sure that I could just casually stroke over the first one, and proceeded to do so. Suddenly the thing morphed to a vertical-going-concave bowl, perfect in every way except that I wanted nothing to do with it, and I had to dig for all I was worth to scratch over the top. Behind me, everyone had headed for the channel, with "holy f--k, look at this thing" and "that's a big 2-0!". As I reached the top and looked down a perfect shoulder to the south, I realized that I had just paddled over my first twenty-foot wave. I also realized that there was no way that I would have ever taken off on that wave. And from what I could see of the others, they pretty much felt the same way. I've since heard it said that some waves at Mavericks are not meant to be paddled into. That was one of them. There were two or three others in that set, but by then we were all in the safe zone. And I was considering my options.

I was spooked. What I had seen in that last set I didn't want any part of. So I figured I'd just hang outside until I'd calmed down enough to snag one more before going in. What I should have done was go to the channel so I could watch the others ride waves. From what I could hear and see from the back, they were getting epic rides. And epic wipe-outs. I was able to dodge the big sets but not really seeing all the action. This wasn't working at all.

After maybe two hours of this frantic hide-and-go-seek, the wind came up. It was my last chance to try another wave before turning tail and paddling in. The gene for stubbornness runs strong in our family, so I paddled more inside and a little toward the channel. Sure enough, within twenty minutes a wave came through that nobody picked up at the main bowl. I was just a little off the peak, slightly on the shoulder, so I decided to go for it. The wind coming up the face was so strong that I didn't really think I had a chance, but somehow I battled my way into it. I remember the ledge coming over square just to my left. This time I did make it down the face, but only to meet Volkswagon-sized chop at the bottom. Next thing I knew, I wasn't penetrating the water but doing cartwheels across the top of it. At least I was headed in the right direction, toward the channel. By the time the whitewater caught up with me, I was out of the crunch zone.

Once I hauled myself back onto my board, I was over toward the channel and halfway in toward the rocks. OK.....time to paddle in. At least I still had that option. I had attempted two waves out there......didn't ride them exactly, but at least I survived them. Time to go in and think this through a little more.

After that first session at Mavericks, I wasn't too confident in my skills or my board. The skills I could work on, but what to do about the board? It turns out that the remedy for that came from my brother and his friends.

Tom and family came up for Thanksgiving that year, and we were surfing Scott Creek on a windy, torn-up afternoon. Frosty was out there, and we got to talking about that day at Mavericks and how my board didn't seem to quite fit the bill. Tom overheard the conversation. Well.....a month later, on Christmas day, I got a call from him telling me that I needed to come to San Diego to pick up my present. All he would tell me was that they had all got together down there and come up with a kneeboard design that they figured would handle Mavericks. I couldn't wait and drove down two days later to pick it up.

This thing was like no other board I had ever seen. It was 6'7" with a fish tail and split fin arrangement. The two forward fins were relatively normal looking, but the two backs ones almost overlapped the front two and stuck almost perpendicularly out of the bottom of the board. These were quite thick, double-foiled wood, and their bases were notched at the rear like some windsurfing fins. The bottom of the board was a double concave at the tail and slight V in the nose. The deck was two-thirds covered with a sunken soft material that ran flush with the top of the board. Both bottom and top had carbon fiber impregnated in the glass. And the board was mostly black.

It was soon named the Darth Vader board.

Turns out that the board had been a community project for the previous month. Toby had shaped it. Larry had made the wooden fins. Steve had fitted the soft deck. Tom had painted it. Sean had glassed it and done the fin placement. These guys are all master craftsmen in their fields, and they had come together to make this board. I was blown away. And couldn't wait to try it.

Toby and I had a conversation about the theory behind the design features of this board. Something about the rail and bottom shape and the split fish fins creating a vehicle which would not hang up at the top of a wave and would prevent cavitation on a steep, fast drop. I didn't understand all of what he was telling me, but did realize that this board was state-of-the-art and quite unique. And it had been made with one spot in mind. Now it was up to me to be the pilot and report back.

So........a month or two later.....day two for me at Mavericks. I had tried riding the Darth Vader board at other spots, to get a feel for it, but soon realized that this approach would provide me limited information at best. I could tell that it didn't hang up at the top, but because of its length and weight, it was too stiff on smaller waves to maneuver much. What I needed was a huge vertical wall of water to test it out, and that could be provided at only one place on the north coast. So.....one more time.....I was nervous as hell but curious too.

It was a clean day in early February, slightly smaller than Halloween had been. There were maybe 8-10 guys out. This time I sat in the lineup for a while to check things out a bit. OK, along came a wave. Looked medium sized for the day. Another guy went on it, but I was deeper, so I went too. .......got picked up.....then accelerated horizontally toward the beach, but hadn't started dropping down the face yet...I was at the top.....the board released; cool, no hangup!!......I was a bit late though, so had to scoot back a bit...boom! halfway down I was engulfed in whitewater...... ready to be ejected, but....hey, I was out below the section and still on my board!......OK, it was time to crank a turn and project onto the shoulder.

Unfortunately, still not being used to the length of Darth Vader, I cranked a little too hard, dug a rail, and bogged on the shoulder, at which point the wave passed me by. But by now I'd learned to acknowledge small victories whenever they came. I had made a drop at Mavericks!! It could be done! In my own mind, it was as good as if I'd made the wave all the way to the channel. Now....all I had to do was get to know the board a little better.

I paddled outside and tried hopping up on it a few times, in still water, to emphasize where I should be on the deck for the next drop....further back than I was for that last wave, that's for sure. People were looking at me kind of funny, but seemed interested in what I was trying to accomplish.

Here came wave number two. Nobody else was around, so I went. I was pretty deep, but, what the hell.....I only had enough nervous energy for one more try this day, anyway. .......same pickup, same horizontal acceleration, same release as before, but the face was almost concave. My board was absolutely vertical as I shot down the face, but it didn't cavitate. I made it to the bottom without pearling and with nowhere to go but straight, as the whole ledge collapsed inches behind my tailblock. I hunkerd down and sucked in air, to get ready for the blast, but somehow got out in front of it, still going straight. We went through two or three repetitions of getting caught by the slowly diminishing whitewater and shooting out of it before I could see that we were pretty close to the rocks and dove off to save myself and the board.

OK, that was enough for one day. No more energy, physical or nervous, left. Time to head over to the channel and in. But I'd learned a lot. This could be done, and I'd be back to do it.

--------Now it was two years later. It had been a mixture of successes and failures for me at Mavericks since then. I'd come to know Darth Vader better. There had been successful drops, learning how to control the lump on the way down, and finding the right patch of water to make a turn in. There had also been denial of entry, when a chop came up the face and pushed me back over the top. And there was that one pitch with the lip, dead center at the peak, with its consequent hold-down in deep cold black water that took me two-thirds in toward the rocks. That one almost cut short my career at Mavericks, but, after some soul searching, I came back. I still hadn't gotten a full Mavericks wave, one that wrapped all the way from the peak to the channel and took me in almost to the rocks.

It was the first day of the pre-Christmas swell of 1994 now. This swell would later be one of the best remembered ones in surfing history and the one that brought Mavericks to the attention of the mainstream public. Later that week, Jay Moriarity was to get pitched on a huge wave in what many considered the worst wipeout ever recorded. And even later, Mark Foo, one of the most accomplished big-wave riders of the time, was to die out there. The media was on it, from the channel and from the cliff, recording for everyone one stupendous ride after another. The swell lasted an entire week.

But what most people don't remember is that the swell started on a Saturday, relatively small (for Mavericks) but clean and coming up. I was out there with 10-15 others. There was a lot of positioning going on, so I had to wait. But finally it happened. A good clean one came my way. I dropped in, got air at the bottom as I skipped over a boil, made my turn, climbed the face, then drove for the channel. And made it. It seemed so simple at the time. It seemed like...."of course, that's just what you do". Only later would I realize that that was exactly what I'd been trying to do for a number of years. It was the only wave I caught that day, but I went home a happy camper.

The rest of that swell made history. I played very little part in it, except, with everyone else, to marvel at the stills and videos that came out, shots of successful rides (and wipeouts) on waves that stunned people with their size and ferocity. People, surfers and nonsurfers alike, came to understand that, right here in California, was a wave that challenged any other in the world for magnitude.

------Since then, I've surfed Mavericks maybe 3-4 times a year, on the medium-sized, non tow-in days. And there's been both glory and disaster. I'm now using another board, with its own design for big waves. But the Darth Vader board stands in a corner of my house as a reminder. It seems that my experiences at Mavericks.....the wave, the people....just keep pulling me back there. For how many more years? I have no idea.

Next year, anyway.
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RMcKnee
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Post by RMcKnee »

Thanks for posting this Phil. One of the best posts ever on this site, an unprecedented debut. We've all seen the few photos posted here of you launching into Mav's bombs. Your piece, along with those shots, puts kneeboarding in historical context alongside Jay Moriarty's famous crucifix wipeout and the death of Mark Foo. It's a privilege to now gain some insight into the processes involved in preparing for big waves. There are a few valuable lessons there.

The pedigree on your Darth Vader board reads like a who's who of San Diego surfboard design that goes right back to the start of a very rich vein of kneeboard history: that must have been an inspiration to you in itself.

Thanks again.
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MJ
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Post by MJ »

Awesome read. Thanks
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Post by Kev »

thank you for posting
wow

I know I can't do that and will never try
I'm in trouble at 10 feet ... err make that 8
and can not comprehend waves of that size
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Post by C J Gagner »

Thank you for that that was great!
Though the course may change sometimes rivers always reach the sea!!!!
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Post by finger »

THANKYOU PHIL
WELCOME TO KSUSA

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Post by MikeS »

Great Post Phil... did you ever go left?... just curious as I've seen a few Boogie Boarders pull it off..
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Post by dua anjing »

:shock: :shock:
Damn ! Great Post !

Thanks Phil !
I live in my own little world, But it's OK they know me there.
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Post by fooj »

Mahalo for sharing that.
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Post by Man O' War »

I admire your perseverance and your honesty. Thanks for posting this.

I can see someone spooning this place with a 6' carbon gun... just not me.
Last edited by Man O' War on Sun Sep 05, 2010 12:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Craig »

Great post Phil! Pushing over the ledge finding yourself going backwards up the face, has to be one of those all time OH @#^% moments, got my heart pumping reading it :shock:
Thanks for articulating your experience, makes the photo that much better 8)
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Post by gumby »

Thanks Phil for the post.
How about a few pictures of the boards?
To do what I want to do
I have to do what have to do

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Post by mutiny »

8) awesome post phil!
wouldnt it be better to run a mile and hold your breathe the whole way to prepare for the hold downs
gnarly stuff
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Post by KenM »

That's a great read Phil, thanks so much for posting it.
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